But I wanted this to at least be enough for now.
After breakfast, we went back to the room to change, and sure enough, there were fifteen messages waiting for me on my phone. I ignored all of them and sent back a single text.
Me: I’m safe and alive. Taking a vacation. We can talk about it later. Call The Winds hotel on Pierce Island if there’s an actual emergency.
It was maybe a bad idea to give him the hotel name, but I didn’t want to ice him out completely. I wanted him to sit withhis discomfort until he realized that I could do this. That even if my body was in worse shape, I would havestillbeen able to do all of this.
“Beach?” Ryan asked. He appeared in the doorway to my bedroom as I was unstrapping my orthotics, which were not built for seawater or sand. His eyes caught on them, and I could see questions lingering, but he didn’t ask them.
“Did you get the snorkel gear?” He’d run down to the activities desk while I was changing, and I could see he was still out of breath from power walking back.
He grinned and held up two masks. “Freshly sanitized, in case you change your mind.”
I was thinking about it. Every risk with him seemed worth taking.
Standing up, I pulled my shirt over my head, then turned toward the bed to grab my rash guard that still had all the tags on it. As I started to rip them off, I felt his presence—the heat of him at first, and then a touch up my spine.
“These look painful.”
Ah. My scars. I hadn’t really thought about them since I almost never got a good look at my back. He traced around spots that were too sensitive and a few that were entirely numb.
“There’s a lot of pins in there,” I told him as I pulled the shirt over my head. Glancing over my shoulder, I grinned. “Getting through airport security is fun.”
“Oh god.” He pressed a hand to the center of my spine, then dragged it lower. There was a spot—right around the injury line—that always felt…different. Pressing too hard made it feel like lightning was zinging up and down my legs, making my toes go kind of numb. But a touch too light and I couldn’t feel it at all.
I sucked in breath through my teeth, and he wrenched his hand away like he’d been burned. Turning, I took him by the wrists and pulled him in, wrapping his arms around my waist.“I like when you touch me. The feeling can be a bit much, but I don’t mind.”
His eyes met mine. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said, because it was him. Then I leaned in and took a careful kiss. “Swimming?”
He pulled back with a grin. “Yes. And shells. I want to collect shells. I even brought a little bag for them.”
When he let me go, he grabbed a small vinyl bag shaped like a blue crab with a little shovel attached. It was so fucking endearing, especially with the way he was grinning. I didn’t know why that affected me so much, but I was unable to help myself. I grabbed him around the waist, tucked him into me, and kissed the breath out of his lungs.
“Oh,” he said, breathing heavy as he pulled back. His eyes were a little hazy as they found mine. “What was that for?”
I shook my head. There weren’t really words to describe the way he made me feel and the things he made me want to do to him. And frankly, if I tried, I was scared they would terrify him. Instead, I brushed a few locks of hair away from his forehead.
“You’re very kissable.”
He blinked, bit his lip, then surged in and kissed me back just as hard. Just as desperate. I felt my toes curling against the floor, and my dick got a little thicker.
“I’m not going to be able to swim like this,” I warned him, “if you keep going.”
He laughed as he pulled back, and I made a big show of tucking myself into the waistband of my swim trunks while he watched with hooded, heavy eyes. He licked his lips. “Maybe staying in is a good idea.”
Laughing softly, I cupped his cheek with one hand. “Swim first. We have all day for everything else.”
He groaned, rolling his eyes back along with his head, and then he snagged my hand and tugged me toward the door. Ifollowed, legs a little weak, but I’d never felt more steady in my entire life.
Eleven
RYAN
The water felt amazing.There was a small, cool current rushing around my legs, which was a balm under the warm sun beating down on my shoulders. I felt a little crispy after half an hour of watching fish swim beneath me, but I didn’t care.
For a moment, I’d wanted to stay in the room and spend the rest of the time worshipping Atlas’s body. I could keenly feel the minutes ticking by us—a vicious reminder that whatever this was had no promises and no guarantees and would be over soon. I liked to think neither of us was willing to walk away and never look back, but I had no idea where Atlas’s head was at.
